Text Speak
by sodium-amytal
Summary: Cassie sends a selfie to the wrong number, and a strange yet compelling relationship ensues with the person on the other end. AU. Crack.


Cassie glances at the smudged number that the unfairly-attractive dude wrote on her arm earlier tonight at the club. He left early, which bummed Cassie out, but she forgot about him after a couple drinks which left her deliciously tipsy. Okay, she's drunk, but she's allowed to have fun every once in a while, damn it. Isn't that the point of being a college student?

She decides to text him and see what happens. It's around 1 a.m., but she's fairly certain he won't mind being woken up by a promise of no-strings sex. She opens a new message and types in the number. Some of the numbers are a little hard to read, what with all the smudging, but she tries her best. She snaps a quick selfie, making sure the photo isn't too unflattering. The lighting's not that great, and her make-up could use a quick retouch, but, whatever, her pout is flawless, so she types: _**See what you missed out on? You should come over we could h av e. Some funn**_

She hits send before she can talk herself out of it. Moments later, her phone buzzes in her hand with a response: _I believe you have the wrong number._

 _ **oh shittt! I thought you weere someone else sorry!'m**_ Cassie types, her face flushing red. She's so fucking glad that selfie wasn't nude; there's something about sending a nude to a total stranger that would probably kill her through sheer embarrassment.

The stranger writes back: _Mistakes happen. All is forgiven._

 _ **I'm so sorry omg I hhope I didn't wake you**_

 _Not at all. Your message was a pleasant distraction from my work._

Cassie's too drunk to figure out if this guy—or is it a girl?—is being sarcastic or not. _**Dude you're still at work? That fuckin blows man its Friday nite you should be out partying!**_ She peppers the end of that sentence with a few emojis and sends it off.

An answer chirps on her phone after a minute or so: _Technically, it is early Saturday morning. And I am not particularly fond of parties._

Cassie scoffs out loud. _**so you're a dork then? Lol jk you seem p cool**_

 _Thank you._ _The opinions of inebriated strangers mean so much to me._

Alright, she knows _that's_ sarcasm. _**Heyy don't be mean :(( and how did you know I'm drunk?**_

 _Your spelling leaves much to be desired._

She isn't quite sure why she's continuing this conversation. This is completely weird, but the stranger is kind of amusing. _**What are you a teacher?**_ She's too tired to take a shower, so she sets the phone on the bed and changes into her pajamas. By the time she picks up the phone, the stranger has written a reply.

 _Teachers are not the only ones with a respect for the English language._

Cassie rolls her eyes and crawls into bed. _**Whatever, dork :P**_

 _Don't you have better things to do at this hour than converse with a stranger? Like sleeping?_

 _ **Sleep is for the weak. And don't YOU have better things to do than talk to a stranger?**_

 _Thank you for reminding me. I am turning my phone off now._

Cassie laughs a little too loudly in the quiet of her bedroom. She falls asleep moments after her head hits the pillow.

* * *

Cassie wakes up to the sound of her phone buzzing on the night table. Bleary-eyed, she reaches across the bed and grabs the annoying rectangle. She manages to decipher a message on-screen from last night's texting partner: _If you are hung over this morning, acquire some Sprite._

It's oddly sweet that this mystery person thought to text her a hangover cure, yet still sort of weird that they're not just pretending the whole wrong-number debacle never happened. Because that's what you do, right? She writes back: _**so you're an advertising exec for Coke?**_

 _Acetaldehyde is a metabolic byproduct of alcohol that causes hangovers; Sprite (and soda water) combat that chemical due to complicated chemistry reasons._

What kind of pretentious motherfucker uses a semicolon in a text message? _**I guess you're a scientist?**_

 _No. Pick up a book sometime; you'll learn something._

Two semicolons? Cassie gasps aloud in offense.

 _If I were a scientist, I would not have used the phrase "complicated chemistry reasons."_

Okay, maybe this stranger has a sense of humor, buried deep beneath multiple layers of pretentiousness and assholery. Cassie takes her phone with her to the kitchen, where she digs through the fridge and discovers a can of Sprite left over from Takeda's birthday party last week. She sets the can on the kitchen counter and snaps a quick picture, attaching a message that says: _**yayyy found it!**_

The stranger's reply moments later: _The suspense was killing me._

 _ **Ok smartass. So what are you doin texting me this morning? Are you at work?**_

 _Not today._

 _ **Course not, school's out LOL**_

 _We've been over this. I am not a teacher._

 _ **Then what do you do?**_

There's a brief pause where nothing happens, and Cassie worries she's overstepped some sort of boundary. Before she can type out an apology, the stranger sends a reply: _I'm a tattoo artist._

 _ **No shit seriously? That's hella cool. I'm an artist too.**_ She pulls back before she offers too much information. Stranger danger, and all. _**I'm in my third year of art school**_

 _What type of art are you interested in?_

 _ **my fave is scenery. I like designing futuristic landscapes and cities and stuff. I'd show u but I don't have any of my art on my phone.**_ Cassie snaps open the Sprite and takes a long drink before sending another message: _**you prob have like a bunch of tattoos right**_

 _I have a few._

 _ **Ha I knew it! You should show me! It's only fair bc you already know what I look like. The least you can do is show me your tatts**_

She doesn't think that's too out-of-bounds here. After all, this mystery person has a picture of her face. If the stranger is some crazy stalker, he or she already has a huge advantage.

 _My phone is incapable of taking pictures._

 _ **Wowww you must be really smart to figure out how to text on a pOTATO**_

 _Blame Sareena for dropping my phone and breaking the camera._

 _ **Who's Sareena?**_

 _A work acquaintance. I suppose, if I were held at gunpoint, I might consider her a friend._

The stranger's sense of humor continues to surprise Cassie. She flops onto the couch and writes: _**Lol what's she like?**_

 _Droll and sarcastic, rather intelligent. Low-key._

 _ **She sounds like you lol. And you don't like her because?**_

 _Because speaking with someone exactly like me is boring._

 _ **Is that why you're talking to me? Cause I'm not boring?**_

 _That seems to be my motivation, yes._

As Cassie types a response, the door unlocks and Jacqui slips inside. Cassie looks up from the phone and grins. "Late night with Takeda?"

Jacqui blushes. "Shut up, Cass. It's not always about sex, y'know."

"Whatever. No girl goes back to her boyfriend's place just to cuddle."

"Maybe you don't," Jacqui mumbles loud enough for Cassie to hear.

Cassie chuckles, dropping her gaze back to her phone as a new message chimes: _What about yourself? Why do you choose to continue our conversations?_

Jacqui sort of nudges Cassie's legs aside and sits beside her on the couch. "Who are you texting?"

Cassie knows the cringeworthy mother hen behavior from Jacqui that awaits her if she's honest, but there's really no compelling reason to lie about it either. "Someone I met last night." So, a half-truth, then.

Jacqui glances at the smudged ink on the inside of Cassie's arm. "That sleazebag who gave you his number?"

"No, someone else." Cassie writes back: _**because you're interesting. You're easy to talk to.**_

"Was he at the party?"

"I don't think so."

"Does he go here?"

How weird would it be if they both went to the same school? Then again, Cassie sent this mystery person a photograph of herself, and the school isn't that big, so odds are they would have seen each other at some point. Enough for the stranger to recognize her.

"Jeez, what is this, twenty questions?" Cassie asks, good-humored. "I sent a selfie to the wrong number and it spiraled out of control."

Jacqui gasps, scandalized. "You sent a selfie to a total stranger?"

"Well, not on purpose."

"Please tell me it's not some creepazoid stalker dude."

"I... don't really know anything about them." Cassie decides this stranger ought to level the playing field, considering they already know she's a nubile, young college student with a great rack. She types out: _**Are you a dude or a lady? Or other?**_

Moments later: _I am very much male._

 _ **Is that your way of saying you have a big dick?**_

 _Must you be so vulgar?_

Cassie laughs out loud, and Jacqui's asking, "What? What?" before snatching the phone out of Cassie's hand and reading the exchange.

"Oh my God, you're texting an eighty-year-old," Jacqui says in horror. "Quick, ask him about World War II!"

Cassie ignores her and types: _**how old are you?**_

His answer stuns her: _Millennia. I have long since lost count how many._ Definitely not from Earthrealm, then. No one here lives that long.

"Dude, you were right," Cassie says. "He's old as balls." She types: _**you're prob way too old to be talking to me then. Chris Hansen would like you to have a seat.**_

She isn't sure if he'll know that's a joke, so she adds: _**jk you seem cool. I should prob talk to someone outside my circle of friends anyway. Broaden my horizons and shit. I'm Cass, btw.**_

Jacqui shakes her head. "I can't believe you're still talking to him."

Jacqui's apprehension is a product of her father's overprotectiveness; as a shell-shocked war veteran, Jackson Briggs may have been a bit too paranoid and controlling when it came to Jacqui's social life. If Jacqui were conversing with a total stranger, Jax would probably burst a blood vessel or two.

"Whatever, he makes me laugh. And he texted me a hangover cure, so he's cool in my book."

Jacqui stands up and pats her on the shoulder. "I hope you're not too hung over for pancakes. Takeda's waiting in the car, if you wanna come. I texted Kung Jin but he's not answering."

Cassie's phone vibrates in her hand. The message on screen reads: _Quan Chi. Nice to meet you, Cass._

"Sure, give me a minute to change." Cassie types out, _**You too. We're officially friends now. Gonna grab breakfast, catch you later mr. chi :-)**_ , before switching her phone on silent.

* * *

Cassie gets distracted by homework and classes, so she doesn't get around to texting Quan Chi until two days later. She wants enough time to have a real conversation with him, so quick messages just won't cut it. She's crawling into bed, her phone set on silent as to not wake up Jacqui in the top bunk, as she types out: _**so where are you from?**_

After a moment, he replies: _Do you really want to know?_

 _ **If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked :P**_

 _I come from a place called the Netherrealm._

 _ **Wow how do you get cell service there?**_

She can practically hear the exasperation in his response: _I never said I still reside there._

 _ **Isn't the Netherrealm where all the demons and spooky skeletons live?**_ Then: _**omg are you a skeleton?**_ It would be kind of awesome to be conversing with a skeleton right now. Creepy as fuck, but awesome nonetheless.

 _I am not a skeleton. My boss, however, possesses the arms of one._

 _ **Meaning what? his own arms are skeleton arms, or he stole the arms off some poor skeleton**_

 _I'm fairly certain they are his own._

 _ **Please tell me you've made at least one boner joke at his expense**_

 _Crudeness is the lowest form of humor._

 _ **Shut up, you know you love it**_

Cassie thinks about continuing this ridiculous line of discussion, but she'd rather know more about Quan Chi himself. So she writes: _**how tall are you?**_

 _6'._

 _ **Holy shit. You're huge!**_ Then: _**(should be the title of your sex tape lol)**_

 _You think you're funny, don't you?_

 _ **I think I'm hilarious tyvm. What do you do for fun?**_

 _I have an extensive library of reading material._

 _ **So you read a lot huh? You watch any tv?**_

 _Television does not interest me._

 _ **Seriously? Dude have you actually watched tv? It's awesome**_

 _Really? Does it inspire awe?_

 _ **Alright smart-ass**_

 _I don't think my ass is particularly smart._

 _ **Do your friends appreciate your weird sense of humor**_

 _I cannot say. I don't really have anyone else I enjoy talking to._

 _ **Omg you don't have any friends? :-( im not really surprised tho**_

 _That's hurtful._

 _ **Whoa wait rewind. "anyone else"? who do you enjoy talking to?**_

There's a bit of a pause on the other end, and Cassie wonders if she's scared him off.

 _Talking with you is rather enjoyable for me._

Cassie smiles to herself when the message pops up. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't relish the idea of befriending some lonely dork—in Cassie's experience, there's often a reason some people can't find companionship—but he hasn't been creepy or pushy. Actually, he hasn't really asked her anything about herself.

 _ **You don't even know me**_

 _Oftentimes, speaking anonymously is beneficial in getting to know someone._

 _ **Well it's not really anonymous anymore since we know each other's names. Also you've seen my face**_

 _True. But surely it takes more than a name and a picture to truly know a person._

 _ **It does. And don't call me Shirley. :P**_

 _?_

 _ **Omg don't tell me you've never seen Airplane!**_

 _Is that a film?_

Cassie smothers her giggles with a hand. This guy is weirdly adorable, and she's never even seen a picture of him.

 _ **A damn good one. You've seen Star Wars tho right?**_

Another pause. She waits it out for a moment, but she's never been the most patient person.

 _ **You're looking it up on wikipedia right now aren't you**_

 _No._

How does one word manage to sound so guilty even via text?

 _ **Do yourself a favor and look it up on netflix instead. If you're going to live in earthrealm, you have to watch star wars. It's like a rite of passage. You do have netflix, right?**_

 _I've lived in Earthrealm for years. Yes, I have Netflix._

 _ **But you don't have a tv**_

 _I simply said television programs do not interest me. That has no bearing on whether or not I own a television._

 _ **Point taken. I've asked you a lot. Do you wanna ask me anything, take advantage of that whole anonymity thing?**_

 _I would prefer to save my questions for a future conversation. It is rather late, and I have films to watch._

 _ **Ok no problem. But just watch star wars 4-6. The first three kinda suck**_

 _How will I understand the story if I skip the first three films?_

Cassie smothers another laugh. _**4-6 are the first three. 1-3 came later. Just trust me, you're not missing much**_

 _I will do that. Good night, Cass._

 _ **G'nite mr. chi**_

* * *

It's a slow day at the tattoo shop. Kotal Kahn is back in the chair getting his right arm inked—his stupidly complicated tattoo required a return visit—but things have been slow enough that Sareena's taken to irritating the hell out of Quan Chi over the course of the day.

"Kia will be insulted if you don't attend," Sareena scolds. She's trying to force Quan Chi into agreeing to attend her sister's birthday party. This is not the first time she's asked.

"Celebrating a birthday past the age of six is ridiculous," Quan Chi asserts.

"You don't have to celebrate anything. Just show up."

"I do not care for parties."

"Everyone enjoys revelry," Kotal Kahn insists, and, oh, they're ganging up on him. Wonderful. "The Osh-Tekk celebrate all monumental events in life."

Shinnok floats out from the back room as though he's been summoned. "Sadly, Quan Chi was born with the inability to feel joy. A severe handicap indeed."

"Still, Sareena, I will not be attending your sister's inane party," Quan Chi says, with dignity.

"Oh, I forgot, your social calendar is just bursting with activity," Sareena shoots back.

"That it is."

"You have acquaintances outside of the people in this room?" Shinnok asks, like he doesn't expect Quan Chi to have an acceptable answer.

"I do. A girl sent me a text message on accident, and I responded. Over the past few days, we have developed a rapport of sorts." He realizes exactly how pathetic that sounds said out loud.

Shinnok cackles a nasty-sounding laugh that Quan Chi thinks is totally uncalled for. With a skeletal hand, he fakes wiping away a tear from his eye. "You've taken to conversing with total strangers now? How unbecoming of you."

"Conversing with strangers is simply the means of acquiring friendships," Kotal Kahn says, like he's trying to be supportive of Quan Chi's meager efforts. "If you never talked to strangers, you would never have found the companions you have now."

"There's still something very pathetic about all of this," Sareena says. "Don't you think?"

"I find it interesting how Earthrealm technologies allow people to communicate with each other in new ways," Kotal Kahn says, which doesn't really answer her question.

"I know you're only supporting him because he has a needle vibrating over your skin," Shinnok says, smug.

Kotal Kahn just makes a noise in what Quan Chi thinks is agreement. Fucking traitor.

* * *

On Monday night, Quan Chi sends a quick text to Cass: _Is Cass short for Cassandra?_

 _ **Bingo, baby. How are you this evening?**_

So he was right. He isn't quite sure how to feel about that "baby" comment, but he shrugs it off: _I am well, thank you. I watched the films you recommended._

 _ **Oh yeah? You like em?**_

 _They were entertaining, yes. I did not anticipate enjoying them as much as I did. I understand it is my turn to ask questions now?_

 _ **Fire away :-) also my taste in movies is A+ and you should always trust my recommendations**_

 _I will do that. What are your hobbies?_

 _ **Besides painting? Tv, video games, chilling with my friends, martial arts...**_

 _Martial arts? Interesting._

 _ **My mom's a general in the Special Forces, and my dad's a black belt. It was pretty much a given that I learn how to fight**_

Quan Chi wonders why she's revealing so much personal information. It's not as though he asked about her motivations or her family. If her mother is indeed in Special Forces, surely Cassandra knows the dangers of revealing identifying information to strangers. Maybe he's somehow earned her trust.

While contemplating his response, he receives another message from Cassandra: _**I'm a black belt too, so if you're a serial killer I will kick your ass, and if you kill me my mom will hunt you down. :-)**_

 _I assure you I am not a serial killer._

 _ **That's exactly what a serial killer would say**_

 _If I were a serial killer, I most likely would have discovered your location and murdered you by now._

 _ **Maybe you're just biding your time**_

 _Perhaps you shall never know._

 _ **What kind of dork says shall?**_

 _It is a word. Also, I believe I am asking the questions tonight. What do you dream about?_

 _ **Like when I'm asleep?**_

 _Your ambitions, hopes, desires._

 _ **Oh well I wanna be a successful artist someday, but lbr that's prob not gonna happen lol Can I tell you a secret?**_

 _Of course. You can tell me anything._

 _ **It's super lame, but one of my dreams is to get married and have a family.**_

 _Why is that "super lame"?_

 _ **Bc I put on this lone wolf act around my friends and parents. And my parents split up when I was young, so I should be super jaded about relationships.**_

 _Perhaps you desire to prove that not all relationships end the way your parents' did._

 _ **Or maybe I'm a huge sap and I'd be hella embarrassed if anyone found out lol**_

 _That is also a possibility. Do you have any siblings?_

 _ **Nah, just me. My bff Jacqui is basically like my sister tho**_

 _Any pets?_

 _ **Nope, no pets allowed in the dorms :-( Jacqui's bf Takeda has a dog, but he had to leave it at home with his dad when he came here**_

 _You like dogs?_

 _ **Yeah dogs are cool**_

Quan Chi smirks to himself, attaches a photo in his next message and underneath it he types: _Meet Puggles._

Cassandra's response is pretty much what he expected: _**omg is that your dog? You have a pug named Puggles? That's awesome yOURE awesome**_

 _I thought you would appreciate that. It is getting rather late, however, and I am sure you have other matters to attend to, so I will let you go for the night. Can you recommend me another film?_

 _ **Hell yea look up Ninja Mime on netflix.**_

He does. It looks godawful, but he decides to trust her judgement. _I will do that. Good night, Cassandra._

 _ **Nite mr. chi (and puggles) :-)**_

Quan Chi thinks he likes Cassandra more than anyone he's ever known.

* * *

 _That film was horrendous,_ Quan Chi texts her the next evening. _I am holding you personally responsible for the two hours I wasted._

 _ **Aww man cmon Ninja Mime is a classic**_

 _I was under the impression that both ninjas and mimes are traditionally silent, or at the very least stealthy. The main character was none of those things._

Cassie laughs to herself, wonders if she should tell him that the lead actor is her father. Maybe next time. She writes: _**Well I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it. How can I make it up to you?**_

 _A conversation is all I require._

 _ **Wow pretty low-maintenance huh? Alright can I ask some questions?**_

 _You just asked one._

 _ **Ugh smart-ass ok I'll ask the ones you asked me last night. What are your dreams?**_

As Cassie's waiting for an answer, Jacqui glances up from her homework and gives Cassie a particularly judgemental look. "Are you still texting that stranger?"

"He's not a stranger anymore. His name is Quan Chi, he's a huge dork, he has a pug named Puggles, and he's a tattoo artist."

Jacqui lifts an eyebrow. "He named his pug Puggles? Wow, he _is_ a dork."

Cassie opens her mouth to respond when her phone dings: _I do not know. My ambitions and desires seemed to have been stripped from me when I traveled from the Netherrealm. I only have a vague sense of purpose, but I cannot identify it._

"I can't believe you're still talking to some random guy you've never even met," Jacqui says. "I mean, it's not like you met through a website where you had similar interests."

"I'm introducing him to movies. He liked Star Wars but not Ninja Mime."

"No one likes Ninja Mime."

"You shut your mouth." Cassie turns her attention back to the phone and types, _**that sucks dude, I hope you discover it soon. Unless it's something terrible like world domination**_

 _If it is, I shall spare you, of course._

 _ **Hella. Besides, who else would take care of Puggles while you're being a domineering overlord?**_

 _That is true. I would not trust Sareena with that task. She seems intent on putting him in small clothes and diminishing his dignity._

 _ **I can't promise I wouldn't do that tbh**_

 _I am rethinking my decision to spare you._

 _ **Nooooo :-(**_

 _That was a joke. Puggles does not care for Sareena anyhow. The last time she visited, he would not stop growling at her._

 _ **Well yknow they say animals can sense a demonic presence :P**_

 _Haha._

From anyone else, that response would be sarcastic or unenthused, but Cassie just knows Quan Chi's actually laughing right now.

 _ **Why'd you even let her in your house anyway?**_

 _She can be very persuasive when she wants to be._

 _ **Maybe she has a crush on you ;-)**_

 _Perhaps, but surely she must be intelligent enough to pick up my complete lack of interest._

 _ **She doesn't know you're gay?**_

 _I am utterly indifferent to sexual or romantic orientation. I simply do not see her "that way."_

 _ **Indifferent, huh? How's that work?**_

 _Earthrealm inhabitants seem to be fond of labeling themselves. In the Netherrealm, we do not engage in such practices. We simply exist as we are. Some of us find a mate suitable for procreation, some of us do not, and others have no interest in mating._

 _ **Which one are you?**_

 _I would like to find someone to share my life with._ Then: _So, are you unattached?_

 _ **LMFAO amazing. Yeah I'm single but tbh I'm not the dating type**_

 _That might make it difficult to achieve your dream of starting a family._

 _ **Lol shut up :P it's a long story**_

 _A story I have time for, if you care to tell me._

 _ **Maybe some other time...**_ _ **why not just go**_ _ **on craigslist and look for more people from the Netherrealm?**_

 _I only know two others from the Netherrealm: Sareena and Shinnok, and I would loathe to spend more time with them than my job permits._

 _ **Is shinnok the skeleton arms dude?**_

 _He is._

 _ **Ok yea I guess you wouldn't want boney hands anywhere near your boner lol**_

 _I could have lived the rest of my existence without that image in my head._

Cassie bursts into laughter, and Jacqui looks at her as though questioning her sanity. "What's so funny?"

Cassie doesn't even know how to explain this conversation to a normal person. When she can speak through her winded laughter, she says, "Here, read the last few texts," and hands her phone off to Jacqui.

Jacqui lifts an eyebrow, reading through the messages. She shakes her head when she's finished and hands the phone back. "You need Jesus, Cassie."

The next morning, Cassie wakes up to a text from Quan Chi that reads, _It's four in the morning, and I am still plagued with the mental image of Shinnok touching me inappropriately. I blame you,_ and she laughs her ass off.

* * *

Three days later, Cassandra's gotten the hang of texting Quan Chi in apropos of nothing: _**if you owned a tea shop would you call it Quan Tea?**_

As much as Quan Chi pretends to dislike her ridiculous jokes, he'd miss them if they stopped happening. He writes back: _Whoever told you that you were funny was not looking out for your best interest._

Cassandra tends to ignore his admonitions, though. _**It would really QUANch ones thirst :)**_

Quan Chi can't resist the tiniest flicker of a smile from forming on his lips, which Shinnok absolutely calls him on. "Why are you smiling at your crotch?"

It takes Quan Chi a moment to realize that's exactly what it looks like he's doing, since his cell phone is obscured underneath the table. He's been convinced—read: coerced—into accompanying Shinnok, Tanya, Bi-Han, and Reiko to dinner, and he's doing his damndest to ensure Shinnok knows he's here against his will.

"I am smiling at my phone," Quan Chi replies.

Shinnok sighs, like Quan Chi is just the worst. "Can't you put that wretched thing away for an hour? You're just as bad as Tanya."

Tanya looks up from her riveting game of Candy Crush and glares at Shinnok. "I resent that remark."

Shinnok acknowledges her displeasure with a noncommital head tilt, turning his attention back to Quan Chi. "Are you, perhaps, conversing with your imaginary friend?"

Quan Chi knows better than to take the bait on that one, but he can't stand the insinuation that Cassandra is some figment of imagination. "She is very real." He has photographic proof that he may or may not look at once or twice a day.

Bi-Han's arched eyebrows are two question marks. "Of whom do you speak?"

"Apparently Quan Chi has a girlfriend," Tanya says, never taking her eyes off her phone's screen, even as she sections off a piece of her food with a fork.

Reiko sort of chuckles under his breath, doodling shapes into his ketchup with the end of a french fry.

Bi-Han just sort of stares at Quan Chi, like he's trying to figure out how that's possible. "I suppose there truly is someone for everyone."

Goddamn it, Quan Chi hates Shinnok's friends. Why is everyone in his life an asshole? Granted, he's not without asshole qualities himself, but how did Cassandra end up being the only decent person he knows?

Briefly, he wonders if that's the reason he cares so much for her. She could have been anyone, really. Maybe he's just been alone too long. Now there's a hell of a depressing thought.

Suddenly, Reiko reaches out and swipes Quan Chi's phone out of his hands. A wicked smile crosses his lips. "Cassandra, eh?"

"Return it," Quan Chi demands in a voice that would make a lesser man wither.

Reiko finds the photo of Cassandra and smirks. "Very convincing," he says, appraising. "I almost believe you're talking to a real woman." He hands the phone back and receives Quan Chi's death glare with wry amusement. It's a coin toss whether Reiko truly has no fear, or if he's just blissfully unaware that the human body is merely a fragile bag of bones and blood.

Quan Chi wipes the greasy smudges off of the screen, and, graciously, Tanya swerves the conversation into a different direction by mentioning a new development in her girlfriend's family drama. Quan Chi has a moment to read the text that's been buzzing his phone for the last few moments: _**so what are you up to?**_

 _I am currently being held hostage by my boss and three of his acquaintances (I refuse to call them "friends" at risk of cheapening the word, because people like Shinnok do not have friends). He seems to think everyone enjoys uncomfortable, stilted evenings and being forced to dine with intolerable people._

His third shot of tequila sits temptingly within reach, so he downs it and types another message: _I have come to the realization that I am surrounded by loathsome people._

 _ **That sucks :( everyone needs at least one person they can talk to about shit**_

His benumbed mind is not up to hassling her about her word choice there. _I have you, so I am content._

Cassandra replies with some sort of smiling emoji at first, then writes: _**awww thanks I'm glad I could bring some joy into your life**_

Quan Chi thinks about replying with something like, "you bring it all," but he's not drunk enough yet.

By the end of the evening, he absolutely is, though, and he's lying in bed, self-pity growing like a tumor in his belly. Puggles snoozes in the empty space beside Quan Chi, which doesn't help the septic spread of loneliness inside of him.

Cassandra's last text sits in the message window, some innocuous movie suggestion. On a distant plane of consciousness, he knows he should just go to sleep, but the alcohol has shut off the valve in his brain that allows him to make good decisions, so he types: _I have discovered that I have no one in my life who cares about me._

Her reply is almost instantaneous. _**You have Puggles!**_

 _He is a dog. He only cares that I tend to his needs. What kind of colossal asshole must I be to have gone this long without having made a positive difference to one soul?_

 _ **Um what about me? I care**_

 _You don't even know me._

 _ **That just makes me care more**_

 _How does that make sense?_

 _ **It's called not being a jerk :P besides you're only feeling bummed bc you were hanging out with people who made you feel shitty right? I know what that's like. I had a similar situation in high school.**_

He waits for her continued response, watching the dots blink on screen.

 _ **It was kinda hard for me to make friends bc I couldn't trust their intentions. I felt like they wanted to be my friend bc I could draw or bc they knew my dad was rich. I spent most of my junior and senior years trying to fit in w/ this group of jerks, and I always felt like I was being taken advantage of. Like... I could've been anyone, I just fit a certain criteria and they didn't give a shit about the rest. But once I got into college I met my bffs, so I'm p sure you'll find some awesome people too :)**_

He feels honored that she's revealed something so personal to him in hopes of brightening his mood.

 _Thank you, Cassandra. You truly are the most decent person I know._

 _ **That's just cause you're surrounded by assholes :P but thanks**_

He wants to tell her something heartfelt and profound, but he's never been good at those things. What he feels when he speaks with her is strange and alien to him. Quan Chi has never had much use for emotions like fondness and endearment, but Cassandra continues to confuse him in exciting new ways.

 _I am sorry you had to suffer so during your life, but I am glad you have found friends to enrich you._

He falls asleep while waiting for her reply.

* * *

The next morning, Cassie finds a text message from Quan Chi on her phone: _Please forgive my transgressions last night. I should not be allowed to send messages when I have been drinking. I hope that I did not make you uncomfortable._

His apology is kind of weird, because people don't usually apologize for drunk texting unless they were a total douchebag or an overly-emotional ex, of which Quan Chi was neither. It's kind of endearing, but Cassie wonders what messages he was sober enough to know not to send.

 _ **No forgiveness necessary. It's all good. What are friends for, right?**_

* * *

By the time Spring Break rolls around, Cassie's restless. Takeda has gone home to visit his parents and taken Jacqui with him, so Cassie's only real social life comes from Kung Jin's insistence on including her in his loud, shameless pursuit of a dopamine high.

"We should go clubbing," he says with zero preamble one night. They're sitting in a Denny's, eating pancakes and hash browns at ten o'clock at night, and Cassie doesn't think there's anything quite as sad as that. Kung Jin wipes the sticky remnants of maple syrup off of his fingers with a napkin. "It'll be fun."

Kung Jin is a living embodiment of the term "YOLO." If it involves any form of slow self-destruction, Kung Jin will probably be up for it. He is the quintessential Ritalin-chewing, hard-partying college kid, and sometimes Cassie wants to reach out to him and tell him it's okay to slow down and get some rest.

"I'm not really dressed for the occasion," Cassie says, referring to her lackluster ensemble. Her make-up is minimal, almost non-existent.

"So what? It's just for fun. Nobody meets anyone serious at a club." Kung Jin adheres to the firm belief that he's going to marry rich once he hits thirty or so, a belief which he uses to justify his pursuit of no-strings hookups until the perfect man comes along. Cassie has other, more personal reasons for her own avoidance of romantic entanglements, reasons which she's fully aware make her a coward.

Cassie shrugs and says, "Alright, you twisted my arm," which is how she ends up at the hip, trendy club not too far from their school. The patronage is mostly fellow college students, but there's a decent amount of new faces each night to add some variety.

She snaps a picture of her half-full martini glass and sends it to Quan Chi, along with a message: _**so how's your night goin?**_

Quan Chi responds with his characteristic confusion of how Earthrealm works: _Do you not have class tomorrow?_

 _ **It's spring break, ya goober :P god, don't you watch mtv?**_

 _No. Should I?_

 _ **Rofl no, you're about ten years too late on that one**_

A well-built man with dark hair and face paint sits beside her at the bar. The paint accentuates his eyes, forming what look like butterfly wings on either side of his face. The neon lighting of the club casts his shirt either deep red or purple, depending on what color strobe light hits him. "Is this seat taken?"

"It is now."

He gives her a wry smile, as though he's privy to the joke instead of being the butt of it. "My name's Reiko."

She feels obligated to give him her name now, because that's what you do. "Cass."

"Nice to meet you, Cass. Is that short for Cassandra?" At her look of mild surprise, he says, "Not a lot of common names that start with 'Cass.'"

"Not a lot of dudes named Reiko either," she says with a smirk.

Reiko shrugs. "My parents wanted a daughter. But there are plenty of unisex names: Charlie, Jamie, Stevie..."

"Ashley."

"I can't say I've met a man named Ashley."

Cassie sighs in exasperation. "You haven't seen Evil Dead?"

Reiko chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm from Outworld. There are many important cultural media I've yet to understand."

"Then you probably won't enjoy talking to me. Half of what I say is pretty much pop culture references."

"It seems I have an incentive to learn."

Cassie groans internally at that line, and Reiko orders a drink from the bar. She whips out her phone and writes: _**ugh this dude is so lame**_

 _Is he harassing you?_

Cassie doesn't have time to reply, because Reiko turns back to her and tries to resuscitate this conversation. Why can't he see that it wants to die already? "This may be a strange question, but stranger things have happened. Do you, by any chance, know a man named Quan Chi?"

Cassie feels her heart thump against her ribcage. "Maybe I know two of them," she says, but her sarcasm's undercut by a crawling anxiety she can't quite place.

Reiko smirks, as though understanding something. "I thought you looked familiar. He speaks quite highly of you."

"'Cause I'm awesome." But Reiko's words have opened a floodgate of panic inside of Cassie. How did Reiko know who she is? Did Quan Chi show him her photo? And why does Quan Chi even talk about her at all?

"A fact of which I am well aware."

Cassie's train of thought snags on a particular detail. "How do you know Quan Chi?"

"I'm acquainted with his boss. The handful of times I've met Quan Chi have been"—he searches for the word—"interesting, to say the least."

Cassie remembers Quan Chi's mournful texts lamenting his lousy friendships. If this jerk-off is one of them...

Reiko chuckles again. "I can't believe you're real. I thought he made you up, y'know, took some girl's picture off of Facebook and created this whole imaginary person."

Cassie lifts an eyebrow. "Does he do that a lot?"

Reiko makes a yes-no gesture that tells Cassie absolutely nothing. "You live for millennia as a loner, and you go a little crazy."

"He seems perfectly fine to me," Cassie says, well aware that her defense is pretty much along the lines of, "I don't think he would do that." She really wishes she had something more substantial to base her opinion on.

The bartender serves Reiko his drink, and Reiko takes a long swallow.

Cassie uses the opportunity to surreptitiously send Quan Chi a text. _**So apparently this dude is one of your "friends?" Reiko or sth he's kind of a dick**_

She feels the phone buzz in response as she slides it back into her pocket, but Reiko's got his eyes on her, and she's wary of making the wrong move here. "Isn't it against the Bro Code to try to get with your friend's girl?" Cassie asks.

Reiko makes a bitter-sounding noise. "A beautiful girl like you lies in bed at night dreaming of the bald, socially-stunted, millennia-old man who's going to sweep you off your feet?" His cynical smirk says he doesn't think Quan Chi has a shot in hell, that Cassie could never see him that way.

"Well, I'm not too sold on his aggressive, disparaging friend either." Cassie tries to process this new information. So he's a bald guy. Huh. Coupled with the age remark, Reiko isn't exactly painting a pretty picture here. But that's the point.

"Has he sent you a picture of himself?" Reiko asks.

"I haven't asked."

"Yet he has one of you."

"That was an accident. I sent a selfie to the wrong number, and a weird, engaging friendship was born."

"All I'm saying is there's probably a reason he's kept you in the dark."

"It's not a crime to be self-conscious," Cassie says. The idea of a Netherrealm being having self-image issues is oddly endearing. "And, y'know, maybe he wouldn't be if his _friends_ were more supportive."

"I'm plenty supportive," Reiko argues, and Cassie thinks she's hit a sore spot. "But Quan Chi has never really fit in with myself and our ilk. Tanya, for example, is a prestigious fashion designer. Bi-Han's family owns multiple oil refineries all over the world. I work as an accountant for the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Quan Chi is a tattoo artist who lives alone with his dog."

"If he has a dog, he's not exactly alone, now is he?" Cassie's just being a smart-ass at this point, because this guy's a dick. In this moment, she feels a strange sense of camaraderie with Quan Chi, a bond forged through failing to live up to those around them. "And watch what you say about artists. I happen to be one."

Reiko's about to say something in response when Cassie's ringtone blares loud enough for her to hear it over the booming music of the club. People usually don't call her—texting is easier for everyone involved, really—but even if it's a telemarketer, she'd be happy for the distraction. Any excuse to get away from this guy.

Her heart crawls into her throat when she fishes her phone out of her pocket and sees the caller ID. Quan Chi.

Maybe he hit the wrong button. Or maybe he's trying to tell her Reiko is secretly an axe murderer. It might be a good idea to answer, at any rate. "I have to take this," Cassie explains, pressing the answer button and raising the phone to her ear.

Quan Chi's voice is a deep, rumbly punch in the ovaries. "Answer yes or no: are you still engaged in conversation with Reiko?"

Her breath catches. "Yeah..." This is their first voice conversation. She might be freaking out a little.

"Pretend I've just told you some horrible news, and you must depart."

Holy crap, he's giving her a conversational out. Quan Chi is the best.

As the daughter of an actor, Cassie's picked up a few things over the years. She does her best to sound horrified, but the nervous hitch in her voice is completely genuine. "Oh my God, what hospital?"

Quan Chi chuckles. "Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

"I'll be right there," Cassie says, maintaining the charade. She slides off the barstool and drops a few bills onto the counter. "I have to go," she tells Reiko, before weaving through the gyrating crowd and disappearing through the front door.

The night air is crisp and cold against her sweaty skin. When she's certain Reiko isn't lurking after her, she puts the phone to her ear again. "So what the fuck was that about, anyway?"

"I suppose Reiko did not speak very highly of me?"

"I'd cross him off my Christmas card list."

Quan Chi makes a pensive noise. Cassie punches the crosswalk button and waits for the light. "Is that why you didn't want me talking to him?"

"I simply wanted to aid you. You expressed discomfort, I supplied you with a credible escape tactic."

The light changes, and Cassie dashes across the dark street. "I can take care of myself, y'know."

"My apologies," he says, sounding flustered. "It was not my intention to insult you."

Cassie snorts a laugh. "Relax, will ya? I'm not that kind of girl. Thanks for lookin' out for me."

"Certainly."

"Seriously, though," Cassie's saying as she crosses the campus green, "that Reiko guy's a douche. Why do you even hang out with him?"

"It is usually Shinnok's idea."

"Don't let ol' skeleton hands boss you around."

"He is my boss."

"I mean outside of work. Y'know, if you were a girl, you'd probably have a good sexual harassment suit on your hands."

Quan Chi sighs. "Please tell me we're not having this conversation again."

"Look, I'm not saying he wants the D, I'm just saying it's not exactly legal for a boss to force you to hang out with him after work." Cassie files that under "things you probably shouldn't say out loud," because a couple people lingering on the green look at her in confusion.

"I would prefer to be in good standing with him in the event I usurp his position."

"Or you could just boot his ass for being a dick."

"I will consider that method," Quan Chi says in a way that tells Cassie he's so not considering it.

She wants to keep him talking, though, because his voice is like liquid gold. "It's really cool to finally be able to talk to you."

"Yes, you sound just as I imagined you would."

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

"It simply means your voice is as lovely as I imagined it would be."

Cassie's face turns about ten different shades of red, and she's so glad he's not here to see that. "Wow, flirt alert. You should'a told me your voice was so sexy."

His laugh is pretty damn attractive too. If Quan Chi looks anything like he sounds, Cassie's screwed. "I did not know that would be a necessary warning. What did you expect me to sound like?"

"Shit, I dunno. Wait, you've seen Ghostbusters, right?"

Quan Chi makes an affirmative noise.

"Remember Zuul? Yeah, that's more along the lines of what I was expecting."

His amused chuckle makes her feel things. "Quite the imagination, Cassandra." There's no reason she should like the way her name sounds in his mouth, but she does. When her parents say it, it sounds like an admonition, but when Quan Chi says it, it sounds like poetry.

"Yeah, well, I've thought about it a lot." Cassie lets herself into her dorm room and shuts the door behind her. "But since I don't know what you look like, I've had to fill in the gaps."

"If I had a photo, I would send you one."

"Your camera still broke?"

"It is."

"Shit, dude, why don't I just send you a new phone?"

"That will not be necessary."

"It's no problem. Won't cost me a dime."

"Be that as it may, I'm afraid I cannot except such a gracious gesture. Perhaps something of less expense would be preferable."

"You sound like a cross between a robot and a Shakespeare character," Cassie says around a laugh. "Is that a Netherrealm thing or an old-as-balls thing?"

"The latter," Quan Chi says, sounding displeased that he has to admit to it. Cassie wonders if he's self-conscious about his age. "Though the Netherrealm is not exactly prone to modern speech."

"So I've noticed."

"But, like anything else, it can be learned."

Cassie doesn't understand how she can have such strong feelings for someone after only talking to him for about a month. "Don't try to side-track me. I'll get you to accept that phone."

"In due time, Cassandra."

Her skin feels like it's on fire.

Quan Chi sighs. "As much as I am enjoying this conversation, I'm afraid it must come to an end. It's getting rather late."

Cassie's heart drops to her toes, but she tries to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Yeah, you probably don't get the luxury of taking Spring Break off, huh?"

"Sadly, no."

"Well, it was really good to hear your voice." She wants to hear it all the time, wants it wrapped around her, soft at her ear while he touches her. She wants to fuck him, and she doesn't even know what he looks like. Now there's a first.

"And yours as well. Good night, Cassandra."

Cassie barely manages a response, caught up in the thrill of hearing him say her name. When she hangs up, she notices a text from Kung Jin: hey r u still at the club? I can't find u

Cassie responds: _**nah I'm home safe :)**_

Ok cool

Later that evening, as Cassie lies awake in her bed, her fingers stroking and pressing over her clit, she doesn't think about his voice or the way he might touch her, or how his skin might feel under her hands or how he might sound when he comes. She doesn't think about him at all, not even when her breath hitches and her heart bumps in her throat. And she certainly doesn't wonder, when her climax hits with a burst of blinding white behind her eyelids, if he's doing the same.

* * *

Two days later, Kung Jin bursts into Cassie's dorm room unannounced. Kung Jin doesn't bother knocking first, just barges in and corners you with his unbridled enthusiasm. He's the Kramer of their little foursome, which Cassie supposes makes her George.

"I wanna get a tattoo," Kung Jin says.

It takes Cassie a moment to remember that she knows a tattoo artist who most likely works nearby, if his area code is any indication. "Oh. Um, okay." She sends Quan Chi a quick message: _**where's a good place to get a tattoo? Asking for a friend**_

Kung Jin watches her curiously. "What're you doing?"

"A friend of mine works at a tattoo shop. I'm asking for directions."

"Is he cute?"

Cassie shrugs. "I don't... really know. I've never seen him."

"Oh! This is the mystery guy Jacqui told me about, isn't it?"

Goddamn it, Jacqui. Cassie sighs. "Yeah. He called me the other night. He's got a pretty sexy voice."

"I am all about sexy voices. Sign me the fuck up."

Cassie's phone chimes, as though responding to Kung Jin's fervor. _Are you sure you're not asking so you'll know where I work?_

 _ **Quit being a lil bitch and just tell me**_

So he does. Cassie hears her heartbeat hammering in her chest. His shop isn't too far from the university. Jesus, she's probably driven by it and never even known. They can actually see each other. Quan Chi is a fifteen-minute drive away.

Can she seriously meet someone face-to-face that she accidentally texted about a month ago?

She jumps a little when the phone dings with a new message. _If you are not busy, perhaps you could accompany this "friend," and we might be able to meet in person. If you feel comfortable with it, of course._

Cassie just stares at the screen, certain she's wrong, that this is some sort of fever dream. Because this can't be real. She had always known there was a possibility that Quan Chi lived nearby, due to the area code, but people move and take their phone numbers with them. So it's not too outrageous to think he might be in an entirely different time zone.

"Well, what'd he say?" Kung Jin asks, moving closer to look at the response. "Is it nearby?"

Cassie hands him the phone, still stunned into silence. Kung Jin takes a moment to read the exchange between them, then he looks at Cassie. "Oh, I get it, you've got a crush on this guy."

"Fuck you, no, I don't," Cassie growls, snatching her phone out of his hand.

"I know you hate emotions and prefer not to have them, but there's nothing wrong with having a crush." Kung Jin tries another avenue. "Look, he wants to meet you. Why not just come with me?"

"Because once we meet, it's over." Cassie wouldn't bother having this conversation with Takeda or Jacqui, but Kung Jin's unique brand of self-loathing means he's the perfect candidate to understand her struggle.

"What'd'ya mean?"

"I don't know how to do this like a person. I haven't had a boyfriend since the third grade, and I don't think that counts."

"Who said anything about boyfriends?"

"It's just... I think about him that way. And I have a feeling he wouldn't be opposed to it." Her face heats up, because her blood vessels are assholes. "So, really, it's more than just meeting up. Besides, what if he doesn't like me? We've talked through text and stuff, but what if he has a really annoying habit, like how you chew your hair or the way Takeda bites his nails?"

Kung Jin scowls at the unnecessary call-out. "Or the way you pop your gum."

"Exactly!"

"Cass, he's gonna love you. He's probably just as nervous as you are."

"Yeah, maybe..." She stares at her phone, because it's been an unusually long time since his last message, and she doesn't want to think his suggestion scared her off. She writes back: _**haha yea that'd be awesome we'll be there asap**_

She's still shaking when they get into Kung Jin's car.

* * *

"I can't do it."

Kung Jin gapes at her. "This is the perfect opening!"

"No, it's really not," Cassie says, shaking her head. They're parked in front of the shop, which, thank God, has tinted windows, so she can't risk a glance inside. "I just... I'm good with what we have right now. It's easier. I don't—I don't wanna repeat the mistakes my mom did."

Kung Jin does that frowny thing he does when he's pretty sure someone's lying. But he knows that sentence is a loaded gun, so he nods and says, "If you're not ready, you're not ready. No sweat."

Cassie smiles, though it's weathered around the edges. "I'll catch you later," she says, sliding out the passenger side and heading down the sidewalk.

She ends up at a Chinese buffet a few blocks down and drowns her guilt in delicious chow mein and deep-fried rangoons. The television above her table is showing a rerun of Bones. The surrounding tables are pretty much empty, and Cassie has a feeling the food is left over from the day before, but she can't bring herself to care.

Maybe her cowardice in not meeting Quan Chi ended up preventing a ridiculous clusterfuck of awkwardness. Maybe they wouldn't have anything to talk about in person. Maybe she'd take one look at him, and her sex drive would dry up, fall out, and roll out the door.

It's probably best that they take this slowly. They only started talking barely a month ago. Cassie isn't sure what the socially-acceptable waiting period is in this kind of situation, but it's probably longer than thirty days.

Her phone buzzes with a text from her dad: **heyyy just checkin up on ya. Hope you're having fun wherever you are. Love you and miss you punkin**

She finds herself smiling, warmed by her father's casual affection. When she was little, Johnny Cage was the most doting father a daughter could ask for, possibly to compensate for her mother's erratic schedule that kept her away from the family. Johnny was the kind of dad who would show up at school during lunchtime and take her to McDonald's if his schedule permitted. He would bring cupcakes to her classroom on her birthday. He would send a driver to pick her up from school—or drive her home himself—instead of letting her ride the bus with all the other kids.

Basically, he was sort of smothering. But Cassie had loved it, reveled in it, felt a sense of superiority in having a famous dad. After the divorce, Johnny backed off when Cassie became a teenager, seeming to know she wouldn't want to be embarrassed by having him show up at school or dote on her in front of the other kids. During Cassie's teenage years, her mother became the overprotective one, on the verge of suffocating Cassie's independence. Sonya Blade, a Special Forces general, seemed hellbent on making up for lost time by aggressively parenting her daughter. Cassie, of course, rebelled.

She responds to her father's message, fills him in on the goings-on in her life since he last checked in on her, omitting a few select details. She's filled with a brief moment of regret. She should have visited him, or at the very least called him. It's not too late for the latter, but she doesn't want him to hear the disappointment leaking into her voice.

Cassie gets a text from Kung Jin that says, oh shit you were right he dOES have a sexy voice. She frowns, switches her phone off, and stalks over to the buffet line for another plate.

* * *

Quan Chi tries not to seem too disappointed by Cassandra's last-minute change of plans, but he understands her apprehension. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he wanted her to show up or not. He couldn't guarantee that Sareena wouldn't make some catty comment (about either one of them) or that Shinnok wouldn't scare her off. He hopes the conversation with Reiko didn't change her mind, though she sounded genuinely happy to hear his voice that night.

And, yeah, he's a little worried that Cassandra won't like what she sees. Quan Chi has never had much concern for his physical appearance, not the way Earthrealmers seem to meticulously obsess over every detail, but since Cassandra's emergence in his life he's started worrying over things he's never particularly cared about before.

If he's honest with himself, he's a little relieved she didn't show. He's imagined countless perfect scenarios in which they meet for the first time, and none of those mental images involve her meeting him at work. If he had it his way, he'd ask her to dinner at some fancy restaurant—he figures that, as a college student, her diet consists of Top Ramen and greasy take-out, so why not treat her to some real food? And maybe they'd squeeze in a movie after dinner, since she seems to enjoy introducing him to films.

But all of that sounds loaded with date-like expectations. If she doesn't return his feelings, a suggestion like that could open up a floodgate of awkwardness.

When Kung Jin leaves the shop, Sareena chuckles, looking at Quan Chi with a smidgen of pity, but mostly schadenfreude at his misfortune. "Hmm, I guess she didn't come."

Quan Chi knows if Cassandra heard that, she'd say something gross like, "Title of your sex tape!" and he wishes like anything that she was here with him now.

* * *

Cassie doesn't text him until much later that night, because she can't imagine a night without the friendly back-and-forth of their text messages. _**Ugh I'm sorry I didn't show. I got nervous 8(((((**_

His reply comes quicker than she expected, as though he's been waiting for her. _It is understandable._

Cassie ponders the meaning behind his words. He didn't say _he_ understands. Maybe he's upset with her and trying not to show the depth of his wounds.

 _ **I'm really sorry. I'm a shitty friend who doesn't even deserve you to text me back.**_

 _That is untrue. You simply experienced a moment of uncertainty in meeting a stranger. For all you know, I could be a serial killer._

 _ **Are you?**_

 _I believe we've already had this conversation. But, if we are being honest, I too felt apprehension at the idea of meeting you._

 _ **You think I'm a serial killer?**_

 _You seem to be preoccupied with this possibility._

 _ **Hey I'm the daughter of an SF general. Some habits die hard.**_

 _Precaution is a good thing. I do not begrudge you your apprehension. I must ask, though: did your conversation with Reiko have anything to do with this?_

 _ **No way, fuck that guy. Trust me, it's got nothing to do with you.**_

 _I am familiar with the Earthrealm expression "it's not you, it's me."_

 _ **The reason those sayings exists is bc sometimes they're dead on**_

 _Perhaps. If it were a problem on my end, I would hope you could be honest with me about it._

Cassie reads his reply a few times. The poor guy really thinks it's his fault. She briefly considers explaining that her mother's distant upbringing has left Cassie lacking in a few important areas, and how watching Mom destroy her marriage through emotional and physical distance has made Cassie's determination not to emulate her somewhat of an obsession.

Instead, she writes: _**Dude, you're fine :P no worries. Just give me time to sort my shit out, and then we can meet up at some point in the future.**_

 _That is fine with me. As long as you are comfortable._

 _ **Thanks dude. You're the best**_

Cassie realizes that Kung Jin is right. She does have a crush.

Well, shit.

* * *

After Spring Break has come to an unceremonious close, Cassie receives a call from her mother.

"Cass, it's Mom." As though Cassie might have had a stroke and forgotten the sound of her mother's voice, or the ability to read "Mom" on the caller ID.

"Hi, Mom. What's wrong?" Sonya Blade is not a woman of aimless hellos. She is not prone to "just checking in" or engaging in mindless chatter. Her military background has imprinted in her an inability to talk without purpose, so Cassie knows when Sonya calls it's not to go skipping down memory lane.

"I was just wondering why you didn't come home over your break. Did you have a lot of schoolwork?"

"Yeah, sorta," Cassie lies. "I kinda lost track of time."

"Johnny tells me he spoke with you a few days ago," Sonya says, and it sounds like an accusation, undertones of "why did you talk to him and not me?" Even years after their divorce, Cassie's parents are still squabbling over custody.

"Yeah, it was just a text message, though. He probably blew it out of proportion."

Sonya makes a noise of consideration before smoothly transitioning into her next topic. "So you're graduating next year, huh?" Cassie's college graduation looms totemic in her mind.

"Time flies, huh?"

"Yeah..." Sonya is unable to conceal her melancholy, but thankfully, she's unwilling to discuss any topic with significant emotional weight. "I was wondering if you're coming home when school's out this summer. You know you're always welcome here."

"I don't know. Maybe." She doesn't like the idea of staying with either of her parents, because she feels like she's choosing one over the other. Someone's feelings will be hurt, and Cassie just doesn't want to deal with that. She stayed with Johnny after her first year, then Sonya after the second. They're even now, so if Cassie picks one this year she'll have committed herself into a fourth year to keep things square.

"What about money? Or are you going to live off of Johnny forever?"

Cassie feels the words like a knife across the ribcage. Shit like this is exactly why she didn't want her dad paying her tuition. But no, he insisted, protested that a father's duty is to make money for his family and how he doesn't want his daughter struggling to pay off student loans for the rest of her life. Cassie relented because she didn't want to injure his pride. But she always knew it would come back to bite her in the ass, most notably in the form of Sonya's snide comments, as though it's somehow Cassie's fault her father has millions of dollars.

"I won't be able to get a good job with a studio until I finish my degree," Cassie says, controlling her anger. "But I've been doing some freelance stuff for some extra money. And I sold some of my paintings a few months ago. It's not a lot, but it's better than nothing."

Cassie _knows_ that sigh on the other end of the line. "I know it's not ideal for you," Sonya says, "but it's not too late to join SF. You'd get really good benefits, and everything's paid for: food, shelter, supplies."

Cassie tries not to sigh, because they've had this conversation plenty of times, and it never ends well. "That's—that's not exactly what I want to do with my life, Mom. I don't—" She stops herself before that sentence ends in disaster.

"You don't what?"

"I don't wanna join SF," Cassie says, treading carefully. "I know you think art school is where hopeless screw-ups go to die, but I think I'm surprisingly well-adjusted." _Aside from falling for a man I met through an accidental, random text and who I've never actually seen in person._

"I'm not arguing that. I just think you have so much more potential, and you wouldn't have to struggle to provide for yourself if you were involved in something like SF."

"And what if I want to start a family? I won't have time for a spouse or a kid if I join SF," Cassie says, because she's the master of low blows.

Sonya doesn't even argue with that, just sighs angrily like she does when she knows she's lost the argument. Cassie can hear the ancient wounds hurtling up toward the surface.

"This is why I don't want to come home," Cassie continues, her voice coming out a little louder than intended, and she's thankful that Jacqui's in the shower right now and probably can't hear her over the spray. "Because you always know how to make me feel like crap about myself, like nothing I do is ever good enough. If it was really about wanting me to make money, why don't you ever suggest something on my dad's side? I'm sure he could call in a few favors at a studio or something. But no, this is just about you wanting a leg up on Dad."

"Cassandra," Sonya barks, but the usual force is missing, as though she's worn down by the tirade, of having to converse with her bitter fuck of a daughter. "There must be something we can talk about that won't upset you."

Cassie clenches her jaw, because she knows Sonya's only doing this as a desperate attempt to feel like the mother she never was. She's trying to make amends, maybe too late, but it's an attempt, and Cassie doesn't know how to feel about it. So she says, "Mom, it's late. I'm tired. Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Sonya says, and she sounds tired too, tired of reaching out to someone who continues to slap her hand away. "Any time is fine. Good night, Cass."

"Good night, Mom." Cassie stopped wondering years ago why Sonya never ended her phone calls with "I love you," because she realized she never does it either. Yet another trait inherited from her mother.

Cassie hangs up, feeling lost and confused. She hears the shower spray turn off. In a moment of weakness, she sends a text to Quan Chi: _**hey can you talk? I've got sth on my mind and don't feel like typing it out. if you're busy it's cool**_

Within moments, he's calling her, and Cassie hears his voice for the second time since they found each other. "Is everything all right?" he asks.

"Yeah, I just... I had a pretty intense conversation with my mom." Cassie realizes how lame that sounds said out loud, but it's too late to take it back now.

"I hope she did not hurt your feelings."

Cassie chuckles humorlessly. "That's pretty much one of her best talents."

"How unfortunate."

"But it's one of mine too. Guess it runs in the family."

"What did she say to upset you?"

"The usual: acting like she's not happy with what I'm doing with my life, trying to be the mother she never was."

Quan Chi makes a contemplative noise but allows her to continue.

"My parents split up when I was a teenager, but there were plenty of problems before then. The big one was how my mom's work kept her away from home a lot. So naturally I grew closer to my dad 'cause he was always taking care of me. After the divorce, I never really had a home. I shuffled between houses, 'cause I didn't want them to feel like I was picking favorites. That's when my mom started getting super strict, like she was trying to make up for the years she wasn't there. That pushed me to rebel a bit, so, I dunno, maybe she sees my career path as a continuation of that. Also, my dad paid my tuition, and I think she's pissed off at me for that, for some reason."

"It seems as though your mother is taking out her anger with your father on you."

"No shit," Cassie says with a dark laugh. "I get my looks from her, so I guess it's a point of pride whenever I can point to the ways I've avoided her fuck-ups. 'I'm not like her' has sort of become a mantra, but maybe I've been repeating it so long I've blinded myself to the ways I _am_ like her."

"How so?"

"Well, we're both stubborn as hell. And we have a severe incapability of expressing emotions that aren't terrible rage."

"I think you communicate those emotions just fine," Quan Chi says, once again stunning her.

"Yeah, but I'm facetious about everything."

"I don't interpret it that way."

Cassie doesn't know how to feel about that, so she steamrolls through the confusion influx of emotions and says, "I feel like I should give her a chance, y'know, because I know she's trying. But I spent a long time being pissed off at her, and letting go of that seems like... I dunno, wrong somehow, like I'm betraying the years I spent anchored in rage." She huffs a laugh. "Yet another thing I got from my mom: my ability to hold grudges."

"Do you feel that your mother believes instant rapprochement is possible?"

"She's not delusional. I'm sure she knows it'll take a while to make up for years of absence."

"Then perhaps acquiescing to your feelings of clemency would not betray your anger. Just as she will take time in earning your trust, it will also take you a fair amount of time for her to chip away at your rage."

"So, what, I can still be mad at her and give her a chance?"

"Precisely. Just because someone is deserving of your anger does not mean they are not deserving of compassion. You can have reservations about someone yet still give them an opportunity to prove themselves."

Cassie wonders if that's a thinly-veiled remark about her own flake-out on their meeting the other day. She wants to tell him the truth, that she might be a little in love with him, that he answers yearnings in her that she never knew she had. But to address it would make it real, and Quan Chi could either break her heart or take her up on the offer. Cassie isn't sure which is worse, because she didn't exactly have the best example of a loving, healthy relationship in her formative years. She has a vague idea of how it might work, but it's based on speculation, all mimicry and no theory.

But there are so many ways for this to be a disaster, for it to be all wrong and make no sense.

"It will be okay," Quan Chi reassures her after the few seconds of silence have run their course, as though he's heard her inner turmoil.

"How do you know?"

"I trust that you will make the right decision."

"What _is_ the right decision?"

"That is for you to decide."

"Could you sound a little less like a fortune cookie?"

He chuckles. "May I offer a piece of unsolicited advice?"

"If I say yes, it's not really unsolicited."

"Endeavoring so hard not to become your mother might prevent you from becoming yourself."

"Dude, what did I say about the fortune cookie shit?" Cassie says, good-naturedly, because she never really thought about it that way before. "But thanks."

The bathroom door opens, and Jacqui comes out in her pajamas, her skin still glistening with the sheen of water. She gives Cassie a quizzical look but keeps quiet, unwilling to interrupt.

"I, um, I gotta go," Cassie says into the phone. "Thanks for listening."

"Not a problem. You are always welcome to discuss with me what ails you."

Cassie smiles despite herself. "Yeah, same to you. G'nite."

"Good night, Cassandra."

When Cassie hangs up, Jacqui's crawling into the top bunk. "Who was that?"

"A friend."

"Really? And here I thought you were talking to somebody you hate."

Cassie rolls her eyes. Smart-ass. "You remember Quan Chi, that guy I texted about a month ago?"

"The stranger you've never actually met?" Jacqui doesn't know about the failed meet-up; Cassie's thankful Kung Jin kept his mouth shut. "You've graduated to actually talking on the phone?"

"He's got a sexy voice," Cassie says, like that explains everything.

"He could be using one of those voice changers."

"I don't think that's his style. He's been super-respectful and not a creep. If he's trying to lure me into his sex dungeon or whatever, he sure is taking his sweet time."

"Maybe he's a really patient creep."

Cassie just shakes her head and scoffs a laugh.

* * *

Quan Chi texts Cassandra the next evening as he's scrounging around in his apartment for an adequate dinner. _How are you this evening?_

 _ **Can't complain. Thanks for the talk last night btw. I called my mom today and we talked for a bit. We're supposed to meet tomorrow for lunch.**_

 _I am glad my advice was helpful. I hope you and your mother will find common ground on which to rebuild your relationship._

 _ **Yeah me too. What are you doing?**_

 _I am currently searching for something to eat. It appears I must venture to the market tomorrow._

 _ **You make a trip to the grocery store sound epic tbh. And dude, just order a pizza or sth**_

 _I am running low on funds. I will not have disposable income until tomorrow._

 _ **Ah that sucks :(**_

He's in the middle of contemplating whether or not to take a chance on drinking possibly-expired milk when Cassandra sends another message. _**Wait what's ur address?**_

For the briefest possible moment, he hopes she's planning on bringing something over so they might have a quiet evening together. But he doesn't dare suggest that. _May I ask why?_

 _ **So I can send some grub your way**_

 _That is very generous of you, but that will not be necessary._

 _ **C'mon you said you'd rather accept sth cheaper than a new phone**_

He _did_ say that.

 _ **I know a guy who owes me a favor. It's no sweat**_

Quan Chi doesn't want to appear rude by refusing her gesture of goodwill, but he feels odd accepting it. He follows the path of least resistance and replies with his address, because if Cassandra wants to do something nice for him, why not let her? It's not like he wouldn't feel a bit hurt if their situation was reversed.

Thirty minutes later, a Shokan delivers Quan Chi two pizzas, a carton of breadsticks, and a liter of soda. A bit excessive, he thinks, but he appreciates the gesture.

 _Your friend seemed amused by the prospect of you buying me dinner._

 _ **Yeah he sorta owes my dad a huge favor lol. But my dad's too nice to start a tab w/ him**_

 _What did he do to incur a debt to your father?_

 _ **Long story short, he broke Dad's $500 sunglasses. My dad didn't even really care, but Goro went on about dishonoring him and w/e, so I just have him pay it off via free pizza**_

 _That is a very convenient arrangement._

 _ **Yeah my friends and I p much never go hungry**_

 _Thank you for your generosity. The only thing better than a free meal would be having someone to share it with._

It's only after his finger hits the send button that his brain screams "why the fuck did you send that _oh my God,_ " and he longs for a way to claw the message back before it reaches its destination. He's the stupidest person alive. This is exactly why he doesn't have any decent friends—aside from Cassandra, who's probably reconsidering their friendship right now.

Instead, she writes back, _**you're such a dork well we're texting now so it's sorta like I'm there**_

Quan Chi sighs out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

 _ **And I have your address now so who knows? :P**_

So she still wants to meet him? He thought her failure to show last week signified some sort of discomfort with meeting him in person, but perhaps Cassandra shares a modicum of Quan Chi's feelings? The thought fills him with pride, elation that she could possibly want this the way he does.

He considers poking at that, raising the topic of a future encounter, but leaving well enough alone seems to be the best option here. Still, he can't help but wonder if there's something more behind those heart emojis.

* * *

The next afternoon, Cassie meets Sonya at a diner a few blocks away from the university. Sonya looks genuinely pleased to see her, which Cassie thinks is a decent enough start. Sonya's already ordered a salad, and she looks up from the bowl when Cassie sits in the chair across from her.

"I was starting to think you weren't coming," Sonya says, a hint of a pained smile at the corner of her mouth.

"I would have called," Cassie says, and she feels a pang of guilt for not extending the same courtesy to Quan Chi.

Sonya picks up on Cassie's momentary mood flux but says nothing of it. "So, is there any particular reason why you wanted to see me?"

"What, I can't have lunch with my mom?"

"You never have before," Sonya says, with hurt in her eyes. Cassie wants to says something like, "because you were never around," but decides she's not going to be a bitch about it.

"Like you said, there has to be something we can talk about. And, um, a friend of mine sorta convinced me to reconnect, y'know."

"Anyone I know?"

Cassie treads carefully, unsure how Sonya might react to her words. "No. But he said something about how you can be upset at someone and still feel compassion for them, so..."

"Family sounds very important to him."

"I—I don't really know. I've never asked him about it. I mean, something horrible could've happened to his family."

The waitress stops by their table, and Cassie looks at the menu, ordering a sandwich that looks like it ought to come with an EKG machine.

"How can you eat like that and still stay so skinny?" Sonya asks, not unkindly.

"If it makes you feel better, I only eat about once a day."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Sonya says, acute sadness instantly readable on her face. "Is Johnny not sending you enough money for a decent meal?"

"It's not that, it's just... usually I have a class in the morning, and I like to sleep in, so I skip breakfast, then by the time I get a break I try to finish whatever assignments I have, then I have a few more classes, and once they're over it's around dinnertime."

Sonya looks like she wants to offer some motherly advice, but she doesn't, perhaps fearing Cassie might interpret it as hostility. Instead, she breaks off a piece of a breadstick, swiping it around the inside of her salad bowl to soak the bread in dressing. "Tell me about this friend of yours."

Cassie doesn't know what Sonya's agenda is here, if she's gathering ammunition to prove her daughter is a hopeless fuck-up, or if she's genuinely curious about the goings-on in Cassie's life. There's only one way to find out, so Cassie selects her words carefully. "Um, he's funny and really easy to talk to. He has a pug named Puggles." Cassie still can't get over that. "And he has a really nice voice."

Sonya lifts an eyebrow in that way of hers when she's scoping out a lie. Her mouth quirks into a smile. "You seem to like him a lot."

Cassie hates that her mother's right, that after all these years Sonya's just stepped back in and called it so accurately. "Yeah, I do."

"Why don't you ask him on a date?"

"I tried, but... I got nervous and flaked out. He was cool about it, and I told him it wasn't his fault, but I think I hurt his feelings."

Sonya takes another bite of salad. "What made you nervous? Did you think it was unsafe?"

"No, no way, he's totally cool. I just—I don't know if I can be in a relationship like that. I want to be, but I feel like I'll screw it up."

"I don't think you will. You're a smart girl. If you're worried about it, that means you'll work hard to make sure it doesn't happen," Sonya says with a sad smile. "Letting my marriage to your father fall apart was the biggest mistake of my life. Because I wasn't there for you..." She shakes her head, trails off. "But I know you're smart enough to see the mistakes I made and avoid them."

Cassie can't understand why Sonya's being so cool about this. Shouldn't she be asking twenty questions about this guy, demanding to run a background check before Cassie even thinks about dating?

"What does your gut tell you?" Sonya asks, rerouting the conversation.

"It's not exactly telling me to stay away from him," Cassie admits, chagrined. Sonya is the last person in the world she ever thought she'd be telling this to.

"Then maybe you shouldn't."

Cassie opens her mouth to ask what the hell is going on, why Sonya's not being the controlling mega-bitch she was during Cassie's teenage years, but Cassie thinks maybe she understands. Just as Cassie herself is extending an olive branch to her mother, Sonya is as well, putting aside her bitterness and her need to mold Cassie in her image.

So maybe Cassie shouldn't question this and just appreciate it for what it is.

* * *

A few days later, Cassie's coming home from class when she discovers a treasure trove of unread messages from Quan Chi.

 _I discovered these while cleaning up my phone's photo albums. Since you asked to see them once before, I decided to send them to you._

Attached are two photos of his tattoos, and Cassie almost walks face-first into her dorm room door staring at them. He's not wearing a shirt in the photographs, and, wow, that's a lot of Quan Chi to look at. His skin is a pale, chalky white. Blood-red ink adorns his arms and shoulders in thick hieroglyphic symbols. The pictures are clear and high-resolution, but she can't really make out what any of the symbols are supposed to be: weird triangle thing in a circle, dots, weird squiggly thing, weird lines... The design appears to be the same on both arms.

His body is stupidly-perfect, and Cassie's so thankful her first glimpse of his physique is through photos, because she's pretty sure staring wordlessly at his body for a couple minutes is embarrassing for everyone involved.

Underneath the photos is another message: _I have more tattoos, but they are not exactly easy to take pictures of._

Oh. Cassie feels her face burn unnaturally hot as her brain goes to about a hundred places it shouldn't.

The message underneath that clears up any miscommunication: _I realize how that may have sounded. I assure you I am not tattooed in any inappropriate-to-show-in-public place._

God, what a dork, Cassie thinks affectionately. She lets herself into her room, still burning up from thoughts of his body. She knows she's doomed to spending the next six months fantasizing about him, especially now that she has something more concrete to picture. She still hasn't seen his face though, but at this point she doesn't care.

Cassie looks at the timestamp on the messages. Quan Chi has had two hours to ruminate over her lack of response, and if he's anything like her he's probably wondering if this was all a huge mistake. She should probably text him back.

 _ **Wow those are p cool! They mean anything special?**_

His response comes rather quickly, which confirms that he's been waiting on edge for her reply. _They are inscriptions from the tomb of the Dragon King, Onaga. It is an ancient Edenian language inscribed by Onaga's holy men, intended to resurrect him and return his spirit to his body._

Cassie doesn't know how to respond to that other than, _**neeeeeeerd :P y'know some people just get song lyrics or inspirational quotes tattooed**_

 _I choose to be an outlier._

 _ **So I've noticed. But now I kinda know what you look like! Yaaaay :D**_

 _Why is that important to you?_

 _ **Cause I'm nosy like that. Sometimes I try to picture you in situations you describe to me, and that's kinda hard when I don't know what you look like. You've got my picture, so obvs you don't have that problem**_

 _Not necessarily. I do not know how you look when you blush scarlet, or how you smile and laugh. In fact, I do not think the photograph you sent me encapsulates your true personality._

Cassie feels a flush creep up the back of her neck. _**Idk if one picture can ever do that**_

 _What I mean is, I believe you were trying to portray yourself as something you are not._

 _ **You think I catfished you?**_

 _?_

Cassie occasionally forgets that Quan Chi's pop culture knowledge is severely lacking. _**Catfishing is basically when people send a fake picture to trick someone into thinking they look hot**_

 _Hm, that is not exactly what I meant._

 _ **I'm jk, I get what you mean. But my dad's an actor, so I guess being able to fake it for the camera runs in the family**_

 _I thought he was a black belt?_

 _ **He's both. He does action movies and insists on doing his own stunts**_

 _Have I seen him in a film and not known?_

 _ **Yeah lmao remember Ninja Mime?**_

 _Please tell me that wasn't him._

 _ **LMAO it totally was**_

 _I retract my impolite comments about the film._

 _ **Hahahaha w/e I'm not offended it's a pretty lame movie tbh but I like it**_

A minute or so passes, then her phone dings again. _Johnny Cage is your father?_

Cassie realizes he must have Googled it. _**Yep :)**_

 _Cassandra Cage. A lovely name for a lovely girl._

 _ **Flirt harder**_

In the interim of waiting for a reply, Cassie feels a powerful rush of warmth in her chest, and she types, _**we should meet. For real this time.**_

 _Are you certain? You're not going to change your mind?_

 _ **No, I'm gonna go through with it. I mean, I wanna do it, and if mY MOM of all people thinks I should, then maybe that's a sign or sth**_

 _You talked about me with your mother?_

 _ **Is that weird?**_

 _No, I am flattered you think that much of me. I take it your meeting with your mother went well?_

 _ **Yeah she was p cool about everything. It was weird, like she got replaced by Regina George's mom from Mean Girls. But w/e you and I both like each other, and I like having you in my life. Ugh I suck at emotions but I think we should totes meet I promise I won't flake out**_

 _When and where would you like to meet?_

 _ **You free Saturday night? And I already have your address soooooo**_

 _That sounds acceptable. Wouldn't you rather meet somewhere public?_

 _ **No I trust you**_

 _Then I hope you will not be disappointed._

Cassie wants to tell him there's no way, that she doesn't jerk off thinking about just anyone, especially when she doesn't even know what they look like. But that's probably something best saved for the second date. Or never.

* * *

Saturday night arrives quicker than Cassie anticipated it would. Try as she might, she can't keep Jacqui out of the loop forever, because they're roommates and best friends, and Cassie needs someone in her corner in case Quan Chi turns out to be a murderer.

"I still can't believe you're going on what's essentially a blind date," Jacqui says that evening while Cassie's digging through the pile of clothes in her closet for something to wear.

"I know he has an amazing body and a sexy voice. Everything else is just gravy."

"You're weirdly shallow."

"How can I be shallow if I—" Cassie stops herself before that sentence ends in disaster. "Whatever. I like him, he likes me, and I'm gonna get laid tonight. The least you could do is be supportive."

"You're gonna sleep with him?" Jacqui asks, scandalized.

"Don't be rude, prude."

"No, I just... Don't you think it would be a good idea to slow down? I mean, if you like him that much, maybe you shouldn't jump into bed with him on the first date?"

Jacqui really missed her calling as a nun, Cassie thinks. "Well, when you think about it, it's not our first date. A date is basically a way to get to know somebody, right? Learn about their likes and dislikes, whether or not you actually get along with them. Well, Quan Chi and I have already had that. We know we're compatible. By that standard, we've had so many dates I've lost count."

"What if you change your mind and wanna go back to being friends?" Jacqui counters. "Kinda hard to do when you've seen each other naked."

Cassie snorts a laugh. "You are not gonna succeed in convincing me not to put out."

"I know, I just—He's been really good for you. Every time you get a text from him, you light up like a damn Christmas tree. If you lose that..."

Cassie hasn't really thought about how her recent behavior must look to her friends. "I like being friends with him. No matter what happens, I'll try to make sure we stay that way."

She doesn't want to look like she's trying too hard, but she doesn't want to show up in sweatpants and a t-shirt either. As a college student, Cassie doesn't really have a wardrobe that lends itself to professional attire. She considers that she wouldn't care if he answered the door wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, so she abandons her "dress to impress" plan and just throws on a decent-enough dress that stops at the middle of her thighs.

Cassie slides on a pair of flats and grabs her phone. "Remember, if I don't text you in two hours, I'm probably dead or tied up in a basement."

Jacqui frowns, then, as though reconsidering, "Does that mean I get the bottom bunk?"

Cassie flips her off and slips out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Cassie's sitting in her car outside of Quan Chi's apartment, and she's fairly certain he can see her being a chickenshit from the comfort of his couch.

She's been sitting here for five minutes, trying to talk herself into knocking on his door. She has no idea why she's so nervous. This is Quan Chi. She _knows_ Quan Chi. She knows what makes him laugh and how he talks like a Shakespearean robot. She knows the sound of his voice, the way he cares for her. It's not a stranger waiting behind that door, it's someone she trusts and knows and kinda-sorta-maybe loves.

Cassie takes a deep breath to steady herself and gets out of the car. She knocks on the door, adrenaline coursing through her veins, her heart thumping madly in her chest.

Then Quan Chi opens the door, and his features hit Cassie all at once. Apparently, he took the concept of smoky eyes and ran with it; there's smudged black around his eyes and running in thin streaks over the globe of his tattooed head. His burgundy-colored shirt stands out against his chalk-white skin. The thin line of his black lips curves into a smirk that Cassie wants to kiss right off of his stupidly perfect face.

"Oh..." she manages, because words have failed her.

He chuckles, low in his throat, and every cell in Cassie's body knows that sound. "Young Miss Cage. What a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Yeah, you too." This is genuinely the best she's got right now as her insides are currently melting.

"You are far more beautiful than your picture led me to believe," he says, appraising her face and the bare curve of her throat before his gaze settles on her eyes.

The compliment makes the corner of her lips turn up into a half-smile. "And you're not so bad yourself for an old guy," she jokes, because she's nervous and can't help it. Blame her Cage genes.

Quan Chi steps aside so she can enter. "Would you care to come in, or would you rather stand outside all evening?"

"Smart-ass," Cassie grumbles under her breath as she makes her way inside. His apartment is rather nice, not as cluttered as she thought it would be. The main room holds a large bookcase stuffed with various books, a few paintings hanging on the walls, and—

"Holy shit," Cassie gasps, drawn to one of the paintings displayed on the far wall. The painting depicts a tranquil, ambient scene of a city at nighttime, but it's not what the painting is of that stuns Cassie, rather, who painted it.

"Where did you get this?" she asks, but she already knows the answer.

"Tanya collects art, and sometimes she brings me pieces she has displayed in her office too long. If my memory serves me correctly, I believe Tanya acquired this one at a university art fair."

"Dude," Cassie says, throwing her arms out so wide it looks like she's trying to fly, "who do you know that goes to a university and paints?"

The surprise on his face is kind of adorable. "You painted this?"

"Yeah!" She digs her phone out of her bra and snaps a picture of the canvas, writing a text to Jacqui: _**duuuude hE HAS ONE OF MY PAINTINGS SHIT JUST GOT SO REAL.**_ "Oh my God, I can't believe this."

"It seems fate has conspired to bring us together."

Cassie wonders about that. "Yeah, seems like it." She has no idea what this means, but it feels like a sign of something great.

Quan Chi's drawn to her side like a magnet, and Cassie becomes aware of the warmth of his hand on the small of her back. His touch is electrifying in a way she's never known. "You seem nervous," he says, thoughtfully. "Do you still think I'm a serial killer?"

"N—no, I just—I can't stop thinking about you, and it's fucking me up. I feel like I'm constantly holding back when I talk to you, because I don't know if you're interested in me that way." Her face is probably the color of a tomato right now. She stares at one of his shirt buttons as though it's the most interesting thing in the world.

Quan Chi tilts her chin up so she'll look at him. "I have been very interested in kissing you for quite some time."

Cassie feels the breath leave her lungs like they've been punctured. "Oh..." She should probably say something else, something that might encourage him to pursue that desire. "So what's stopping you?"

Quan Chi interprets her words as permission to press his mouth, warm and surprisingly soft, over her own. It's weird—so fucking weird—but his hands are all gentle strength around her hips as he breathes into her. She hears herself moan a pathetic noise, and her fingers clutch at the front of his shirt.

Cassie tilts her head and captures his lips underneath hers. She can feel his mouth curve into a small smile, as though he's pleased with the shift of control.

He gives her hip a gentle squeeze before trailing his fingers along the curve of her spine. Quan Chi kisses her exactly the way she wants to be kissed, and Cassie realizes she's wasted her time with college boys, because none of them compare to a man who knows what he's doing. Curious, she reaches down and feels him, hot and hard, against her palm. Quan Chi inhales sharply, fingers tightening over her skin before his hands push underneath her dress.

They're doing this. They're actually doing this. This is insane.

Quan Chi scrapes his teeth over the edge of Cassie's jaw, and her head falls back involuntarily. "Fuck," Cassie shakes out as his tongue dips into the hollow of her throat. She pulls him in tight, wraps her leg around his thigh to feel how much he wants her. She breathes, "I want you," at his ear, and he squeezes her hips again before half-dragging, half-carrying her into the bedroom. Cassie goes willingly, goes for his mouth again after he's pulled her dress over her head.

Her phone, nestled inside of her bra, draws his attention, and Cassie laughs, entirely past the point of embarrassment. Because this is exactly the kind of thing that would happen to them.

"I suppose that's one way to store something when you lack pockets," he says, like he's impressed by her ingenuity.

Cassie can't stop the stupid grin spreading over her lips—seriously, how do people do this with their faces?—as she plucks her phone out and unceremoniously drops it somewhere on the night table with a clatter. Quan Chi mouths kisses over her newly-exposed skin as his hands ease the straps off of her shoulders. His thumbs glide across her nipples through the material of her bra, and that's all the motivation Cassie needs to discard the damn thing herself. He lifts her up, just enough to set her on the bed, then he opens his mouth around a nipple, and, holy fuck, yes. She hears herself groan that out loud, and Quan Chi chuckles a filthy sound that crawls straight down Cassie's spine and pools between her legs.

This isn't all about her, though, so she finds the edge of his jeans and pushes, seeking him there, but Quan Chi bats her hands aside and pins her wrists to the mattress. "Do I have to restrain you, Cassandra?" he asks, and, fucking hell, that's unexpectedly hot.

Cassie manages a flustered noise of compliance, then he's back to kissing her mouth, her throat, her chest, as though he's got all day to twist her up and leave her wanting. There's no desperation in the way he touches her, no impatience, just curiosity and focused intent.

He bites at her mouth, his breath hot against her lips, and Cassie barely has time to whimper, "Shit," before Quan Chi's easing a hand into her panties, fingers stroking over her clit. She can't help the way her hips hitch into his touch, or the way her breath comes quick and ragged with each twitch of his fingers. She squirms against his hand, desperate for more, and already she feels like it's too much, like if he keeps touching her she's going to break apart.

He pauses for a moment to hook his fingers in her underwear and tug them down her legs, then he's pressing hot kisses against her inner thighs, and she can feel his breath so, so close to where she aches for him. She stops herself from spreading her legs wider, because if he wants to do it he will. Her breath hitches and stutters in her lungs, her heart crashing inside her chest.

His mouth is hot and wet against her, and Cassie cries out, her leg hitching over his shoulder, inviting him deeper. As his tongue moves up and down on her, she shakes, her hands sliding over his head. She groans deep in her chest, and Quan Chi hums against her, his moan rippling through her in waves. She lifts her hips into his mouth, and his tongue probes deeper, stroking and licking, moving in little swipes and circles.

Cassie writhes in the sheets, her lungs expanding with each shaky breath, and when his teeth graze her clit she hears herself cry a strangled noise as the world bursts white behind her eyes. Her hips rise off of the mattress, and he holds her there, his mouth wringing out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her heartbeat booms in her ears, her pulse throbbing madly as her hips thrash against his tongue. Quan Chi lets her squirm until the spasms ebb, his mouth slowly drawing her down from the high.

Cassie makes a satisfied groan, because she doesn't trust herself to talk right now. She's never felt this well-fucked without a dick involved. Dude's got some skills.

He kisses his way up her body before finding her lips and covering them with his own, his mouth slack and slow against hers. Cassie's shaking, her lungs starved for oxygen, and she gasps against his mouth. She's pointedly aware of his thumb still rubbing over her clit in gentle circles. Cassie wants him to never stop touching her.

She wants to say something, but she feels like this is a place where things could go horribly wrong if she doesn't say the right thing. Normally, this would be the part where she puts her clothes on and they go their separate ways. Cassie doesn't know where to go from here.

Her breath still shuddering in her throat, she says, "You're, uh, you're really good at that." Why is she allowed to talk? Cassie briefly contemplates setting herself on fire.

She half-expects him to say something smug and boastful, but he just presses a kiss to her bare shoulder and hums a soft sound that says nothing at all.

"I guess you've had a lot of practice, huh?" she says, trying to goad him into a conversation, because this is starting to get awkward.

"No," Quan Chi says. "This is a new experience for me."

Cassie blinks in surprise. "No shit, seriously?" Until now, every guy whose ever gone down on her has been messy and sloppy and generally unenjoyable. She and Jacqui even made up a nickname for a guy with lackluster oral skills: cunni-dingus. "You must be the world's fastest learner."

"You were very forthcoming in your pleasures," he says, and Cassie's not sure if that's a pun or a play on words or _what_ , because he speaks with such a straight face that it's almost comical.

Instead, she blushes and mumbles, "I guess that helped." She sits up in the bed, his hand falling away from between her legs, and pulls a blanket around her in the name of modesty, because her nakedness feels strange somehow when he's lying here fully clothed. "You want me to take care of you?" she asks, gesturing vaguely to his dick.

"That will not be necessary. I would prefer to wait until we can both enjoy it."

Cassie sort of chuckles at that. "Wow, okay, that's... You want..."

"To be inside of you, yes."

Cassie feels the blood rush in her cheeks. Jesus, he can't just say shit like that out loud.

Quan Chi misinterprets her reaction and tries to pull the words back. "Would that make you uncomfortable?"

"No, no, I just—you're so blunt about shit."

"I see no point in disguising my intent."

"I like it, though," Cassie says, because she thinks he's missing the point. "You've always been straight with me." A small smile forms on her lips before she can stop it. "It's cool."

"Not always," he says with a shake of his head, and Cassie feels a pang of fear that she's about to be seriously burned. "I withheld my affections for you for some time."

Cassie doesn't know what to say to that. She settles for, "Yeah, well, so did I. You're off the hook."

Quan Chi smiles in that weirdly charming way of his that makes Cassie lean into his space and kiss him. She sinks into the kiss, cuddling closer, and his arms slide around her waist, pulling her in and sort of crushing her to his chest. She can feel his fingers pressing into her skin. Cassie's hand finds its way to the front of his shirt, slipping the buttons out of their clasps. When she's finished, she pushes the shirt over his shoulders, baring his torso. His arms are covered in red, tattooed symbols, and Cassie wants to touch them.

She traces her fingers over the design on his shoulder, as though trying to decipher its meaning. He slides a hand up her spine and, with nimble fingers, removes the tie from her hair. Cassie breathes a shuddery sound and squeezes her thighs together. Quan Chi dips his head down to suck kisses into her neck, his fingers pushing through her hair.

Cassie feels the bed dip near her feet. She turns to find the cutest pug she's ever seen sitting on the corner of the bed, watching her curiously. "This must be Puggles."

Quan Chi glances up from his adoration of her skin. "Oh, yes."

Cassie holds her hand out for the pup, patting the space near her on the mattress. "C'mere. It's okay." Puggles moves closer and sniffs her hand.

"He seems to be rather curious about your presence here."

Cassie scratches the dog behind the ears, and he grins, his tongue and stubby tail wagging. "I think he likes me."

"He would be remiss not to."

Cassie rolls her eyes, playful. Puggles does an excited sort of dance, bouncing on his front paws. "Maybe he's stoked that you've got a hot piece of ass in your bed."

"Somehow, I doubt that is the case."

Cassie looks at him with feigned offense. "You don't think I'm hot?"

Quan Chi doesn't fall for it. He smirks, not at the joke but because of it, his hand rubbing the outside of her thigh through the blanket. "Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

Cassie laughs. "I feel like we did all of this backwards."

"It seems to work for us."

"Yeah, it does," she says with a contented sigh. Puggles moves closer and licks her cheek, making her giggle. When she looks at Quan Chi again, she's overwhelmed by the way he's gazing at her. No one's ever looked at her like that before.

She's tempted to ruin the moment by saying something sarcastic or making a joke, but maybe it's time to start trying a different approach. The world looks brand new and terrifying from here, with the tenderness in Quan Chi's eyes, and the electrified beating of Cassie's own heart. She reaches out, trailing her index finger over the design of his shoulder tattoo and says, "Of course I'll have dinner with you."


End file.
